


Remember

by mugglecastiel (orphan_account)



Series: Trouble [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Paranormal, Sequel, Supernatural - Freeform, Swearing, almost like season 4-5, basically its going to be one big mess, cas is going to have tons of nightmares, dean is going to hallucinate, dream walking, i'm going ot end up adding tags as i go along, i'm warning you now, only not, there is going to be some violence, tons of cute fluff, yes there is michael in it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mugglecastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>---SEQUEL TO TROUBLE! READ THAT FIRST AND THIS WILL MAKE MORE SENSE!---</p><p>Skip to three months later. It's the summer. Everything is perfect.<br/>Until Dean starts having weird dreams and wakes up with a certain name falling from his mouth, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1: Normal

"There. Perfect."  
"Cas, I look like a-"  
"You look like a gorgeous boyfriend, Dean, who graciously allowed me to paint his body for the third time. This is the third time, right?"  
"Yeah, it's the third time." Dean smiled and wished he could run his hand through Castiel's hair. "How did you know?"  
"The pictures. There's only two different paintings, so I took a guess." Castiel stood again, carrying his palette and brushes to the sink. Dean watched him happily.  
Three months later, Castiel was used to Dean living with him and was starting to let Dean help him remember things. He'd coped with his memory loss, accepting it almost instantaneously. He'd allowed Dean to explain everything to Principal Harvelle, then come back to work a week later, being as careful as he could be. The stitches came out a month later, when the stab wounds from when Sam had taken over his body had almost healed completely. Castiel still had a long white scar down his forearm and was sore around where he had stabbed himself in the stomach. Dean had been helping him until he'd felt better about it, but Dean knew it hurt him sometimes where he put too much pressure onto it or exhausted himself.  
Of course, now it was summer, so there wasn't much for either to do. Castiel sold his painting for money over the summer, and they sold at high prices. It was enough to get both men through the summer months. More than enough, really.  
"You're fucking lucky that I would be dead and gone without you," Dean told Castiel as he picked up the camera. "Otherwise you'd never be able to do this."  
"I know," Castiel smiled. "Come on. Put on that pretty model face and maybe I'll wash you clean."  
"Oh, you're definitely washing me clean," Dean mumbled, covering himself and closing his eyes.  
He waited until Castiel told him it was okay to move.  
"You," Dean said as he walked closer to Castiel, smiling, "are so washing this off of me. No protesting."  
Castiel laughed up at him. "You baby," Castiel teased, pressing his lips to Dean's painted cheek. "Go get in the shower. I'll join you in a second."  
"You'd better." Dean grinned. "Showering with you is the best fun."  
"I'm sure it is." Castiel called after him. He always had to have the last word.  
Dean laughed and made his way into the bathroom, admiring the intricate painting on his body, then slid into the shower. Reds and golds washed down the drain as the water pelted against his face. Greens and whites joined it for a moments time before Castiel joined Dean, towel in his hand, stripped of all clothing.  
It really was good to have Castiel around. Dean had missed him in those few weeks, and he was ecstatic to have his baby back. He was still happy and it had been months.  
As soon as he could, Dean kissed Castiel. They pulled apart and Castiel made a face. "You taste like paint still."  
"Sorry," Dean chuckled. "I didn't mean to make you taste it too."  
***  
Dinner was Dean's favorite part of every day. They both worked together, taking turns in choosing what to make and being the helper.  
That night, Dean was the helper. He handed Castiel everything he needed and helped him stir or mix or whatever, enjoying the feeling of Castiel's lips on his neck every few seconds. It made him grin and want to flip around and pin Castiel against the counter.  
"Hey-" he stuttered as Castiel let his teeth brush against his neck. "Hey! If you don't- stop I'm going to end up- fuck- Cas!"  
Castiel chuckled. "Just shut up and hurry up with putting that into the oven. I want to make out."  
"Make out," Dean scoffed, stirring slower on purpose. "You make it sound like we're high school students."  
"We teach them, don't we?" Castiel grinned, looping his arms around Dean's waist. His hands hung over the zipper of Dean's jeans. "It's only fair that we take up the language."  
Dean laughed and rolled his eyes. "You're a dork, Cas."  
"So are you. Hurry the hell up."  
"Just what are you wanting me to do again?"  
"Pour the fucking food into the fucking pan and put it in the fucking oven, Dean," Castiel's breath hissed against Dean's ear. Dean licked his lips and smirked.  
"Can you repeat that?"  
A smile formed on Castiel's lips. "Put the fucking food-" Castiel bit down on Dean's neck. "-into the fucking pan-" He bit a little further down, flicking his tongue against the skin. "-and put it in the fucking oven before I fuck myself."  
"Is that even possible?" Dean wondered aloud as he poured the contents of the pot into the baking pan. "Can you fuck yourself?"  
"With my hand, yes," Castiel mumbled against his neck. "With a toy, yes."  
"So you can't truly fuck yourself. Like- you can't just move it back there and-"  
"Jesus Christ, Dean, hurry the fuck up before I use my fucking hand."  
"Sheesh, okay," Dean laughed, bending over to put the pan in the oven. Dean could feel Castiel's hardness through both pairs of pants. "Bedroom. Now. Go."  
"Kitchen. Against the counter." Castiel whispered, already turning Dean around and pushing at his pants.  
***  
That night, after dinner, they both sat outside on the porch for a while, watching the sunset. Once the sun had set, Dean went inside to make coffee for both of them.  
When he came back out, Castiel was laying in the grass, staring up at the slowly appearing stars. One arm was folded beneath his head, the other picking at the grass by his hip absently. Dean smiled from the porch and carried both mugs down to Castiel, standing over him until he sat up enough to take the cup and sip it. Dean sat down behind him, legs crossed Indian style. Castiel took one more sip of coffee before he handed it back to Dean, who smiled and set it beside his own hip.  
Then Castiel leaned back again, head in Dean's lap, and they both sat there watching the stars in a comfortable, happy silence. Dean's free hand played with Castiel's hair while his other held his own coffee. After a few minutes he set the mug next to Castiel's and let his fingers trail down Castiel's temples and cheeks as he leaned down. "Spiderman kiss," Dean whispered, smiling into the upside down kiss.  
It was the perfect night.  
***  
"Dean?"  
They were laying in bed now, legs tangled together despite the ridiculous heat. In protest of Dean's complaining about the cold temperatures earlier in the year, Castiel wasn't using an air conditioner to keep the house cold.  
"Yeah, baby doll?" Dean opened his eyes slowly.  
Castiel was staring at him. "Will you tell me another story about what happened?"  
"Cas-"  
"Please? I can't sleep... I want to see if I can remember it."  
"What do you want me to tell you about?" Dean sighed and lifted his hand to Castiel's cheek. His thumb ran across Castiel's lower lip gently. "Thanksgiving? Christmas? Why you were in the hospital? What?"  
"Tell me about Christmas night. I don't think I've heard that one yet." Castiel smiled slightly. Dean could look at that smile forever.  
So he started to tell the story of Christmas night. He talked about what he'd given Castiel, what Castiel had given him, and what happened afterward.  
This happened often. At least three nights a week, when they settled down to sleep, Castiel would ask for a story about something he'd forgotten. He liked being able to see if he could remember it in the morning when he woke up. Castiel had also started writing down his dreams just to be sure he remembered them.  
It was a little obsessive, but Dean figured Castiel was entitled to it. After all, he had lost many months of memory. The guy was bound to be a little freaked out and paranoid, even three months later.  
By the time Dean finished, Castiel was asleep against Dean's shoulder, having moved closer in the middle of the story. Smiling, Dean wrapped his other arm around Castiel and mumbled a soft "I love you." Then he drifted into sleep himself.


	2. 2: Lazy

"Michael."   
The word spilled from Dean's lips as he woke up. His eyes opened slowly to sunlight streaming in through the window, onto the empty portion of the bed in front of him. A yawn accompanied the squeaking of the bed springs as Dean sat up, stretching at the same time.   
Castiel stumbled back into the room not long after Dean sat up and moved to put his back against the headboard of the bed. A sleepy smile was on his lips. "Good morning," he rumbled, falling onto the bed next to Dean and putting his head in Dean's lap.   
Laughing, Dean lifted the blanket so that Castiel could burrow under it again. "Good morning," he whispered. He leaned his head back and let his eyes close. "Did you sleep well?"   
"Yes, I did," Castiel replied, but it seemed a little distracted. "Ella Fitzgerald's Greatest Hits, AC/DC album, and..."   
"Vonnegut. Good memory, baby." Dean smiled.   
"Thank you," Castiel chuckled, finger plucking at the hem of Dean's t-shirt. "How did you sleep?"   
"I slept well as usual."   
"Good. That's good."   
"What's on the agenda for the day?" Dean asked, twirling a strand of Castiel's hair around his finger. "More painting? A party? Hm?"   
"Lazy day," Castiel replied happily. "Have you looked at the time?"   
"No," Dean replied, face twisting in confusion. "Can I have my phone?"   
"Magic word."   
Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Please," he said dramatically. Castiel pressed his phone into his hands. "Thank you."   
He turned the phone on and immediately caught a glimpse of the time. "It's fucking one p.m.! What the hell?"   
"Like I said, it's a lazy day. We slept in."   
"I'd fucking say that we slept in. Jesus Christ, Cas."   
"Sorry," Castiel grinned up at him.   
Dean kept faking his anger. "Why would you let me sleep this la-"   
Lips pressed against his and made him lose his composure. Dean smiled and kissed Castiel back happily, dropping his phone onto the bed beside him and lifting his hands to keep Castiel close. They closed around Castiel's cheeks, his thumbs meeting on the tip of Castiel's chin. "Cas-"   
"Shut up," Castiel interrupted, and Dean smirked.   
"Cas," he tried again, only to be interrupted again. "You're doing this on pur-"   
"Damn right, I am."   
Laughter filled the kiss. Dean's hands slid down Castiel's neck to his chest, where Dean slid his arms around Castiel and pulled him closer happily. "You're a fucking idiot, Cas, and I love it." He breathed the words against Castiel's neck, then pressed his lips to Castiel's pulse point. He let them wander down a little until they were right against the side of his neck. Then he pressed a wet kiss there, then placed his lips down again and blew a raspberry.   
Castiel immediately started laughing, trying to push Dean away. His hands clawed at Dean's shoulders when Dean started to tickle his sides, laughing merely because Castiel was laughing and Castiel's laughter was infectious. "De-hee-hee-hee-n!" Castiel laughed, head tilting back from the laughter. "Let me go- Dean!"   
"Never!" Dean shouted, leaning forward so that Castiel landed on his back on the wadded up blankets with Dean above him. As he did that, he stopped tickling and instead started to worship Castiel in the most physical way possible, peppering his whole body with kisses and marks that showed that Castiel was his and only his.   
He memorized each place he loved, paid attention to the scars on Castiel's neck and arm. Special attention went into the one on his stomach, which earned softer, lighter kisses than the others and a soft brush of fingers. The puckered skin was a sad reminder of how close Dean had come to losing his Castiel, but was also a happy reminder of how he still had him and how he wouldn't give that up for anything. He wouldn't even give it up if I meant he could have his brother back.   
Sam had gone dark side a long time ago, and even though Dean had mourned for a while, he had managed to get through it without the aid of alcohol this time. Instead he turned to life and turned it into the best one he could have, with a man at his side, a well-paying job that he loved, and friends that tried to be his friends. There had been no more half-assing it. No more in between; no more grey side. It was all white. He wanted nothing to do with anything paranormal again.   
He just wanted his Castiel, his job, and his life. That was all he needed to be happy.   
Damn, was he happy in that moment. With Castiel laying under him, smiling and and breathing and living, pressing his own lips to Castiel's salty sweet skin and enjoying the feeling of fingernails raking down his arms, Dean never felt happier and more at home.   
"Dean," Castiel.sighed from above Dean, making the man look up from his kissing. Castiel was grinning, eyes closed. Somehow, the simple action of having his eyes closed accentuated the crinkles around his eyes. Dean felt a tiny smile curl the sides of his lips and moved up again, kissing Castiel's cheekbones before lowering his lips onto Castiel's.   
"I love you, Cas."   
"I know," Castiel whispered, moving his hands into Dean's hair. "I know you do because I love you too, Dean."   
Finally. He could finally say it freely again without fear of Castiel freaking out.   
So he did. He repeated it over and over and over, into Castiel's neck, his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, the insides of his thighs, his calves. Everywhere he possibly could had the words "I love you" branded in.   
Castiel laughed and it made Dean's chest swell. "Come here, Dean," he laughed, fingers finding their way into Dean's hair. "Look at me."   
Dean crawled back up Castiel's body, trailing kisses the whole way. Castiel sighed and slid his arms around Dean's neck when he stopped, wrapping his legs around Dean's waist. He kissed Dean lovingly, hanging onto him like a monkey. Smiling into the kiss, Dean laid his hands on Castiel's cheeks and sat up slowly, taking his little spider monkey with him.   
Wait... Spider monkey?   
Damn Cas for making him watch the Twilight movies.   
Castiel pulled away slightly and Dean tried to go after him and reel him back in. When he got a palm to the face, Dean pouted and widened his eyes at Castiel. "Come on, angel," he whined. "It's no fun if you pull away when it's just getting started."   
Castiel smiled at him and presses another soft, quick kiss to Dean's lips. "I just want to take it to the shower. I feel dirty."   
"Fucking show you dirty," Dean smirked, kissing Castiel with hunger that he didn't know he had. "Come on, then."   
"Carry me?" Castiel batted his eyelashes. Fuck, how could Dean resist that?   
"Fine," he grinned, sliding off the bed with Castiel still wrapped around him.   
***   
It happened again.   
"Michael."   
Dean woke with a start this time, jumping slightly as his eyes opened to the dark room. Only the moonlight was lighting the room, casting pretty shadows on Castiel's skin, putting a blue tint on everything. Castiel took deep breaths next to Dean, completely content to be curled up with one leg out of the sheet that covered his hip and leg.   
Dean slowly sat up, the white sheet falling off of his chest as he did. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, his feet poking out at the end of the bed. To be sure it was real, Dean wiggled his toes. A small smile toyed with his lips. He then ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, letting that smile disappear.   
Four times he'd woken up with that stupid name falling from his mouth. Why was it happening? He didn't know any Michael. It was his middle name, sure, but he'd never known a Michael. Not even at work. It all seemed suspicious and wrong.   
Kind of like the stuff with Sam did at first.   
As Dean slid out of bed to go to the bathroom, he thought about it. Was it some kind of subconscious thing? Could he be thinking of some name of some guy he might have passed on the street one time?   
"What's the use in worrying about it?" he asked himself as he washed his hands. "Just go back to bed and back to sleep. You've got Cas waiting for you, fast asleep and happy. Don't do anything to ruin it." Dean was looking at himself in the mirror, mostly seeing the outline of his form and the whites of his eyes.   
"Yeah. Don't ruin it," Castiel yawned from the doorway, smiling sleepily. "Come back to bed."   
Dean smiled. "What are you doing? I was just going to the bathroom." His arms slid around Castiel's waist when Castiel reached one arm out to Dean with that adorable little smile on his mouth. Castiel's arms both hooked around Dean's neck loosely and Castiel went limp in Dean's arms.   
"Bed. Tired. Can't sleep without you." Castiel's sentences were choppy and slurred together, but Dean understood him. "Heard you get up. Took too long."   
"Dork," Dean sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Back to bed. Come on, come on. Move your legs."   
"Don't think I can. Too tired."   
"Lazy fuck," Dean teased, bending down to hook one arm behind Castiel's knees.   
"If I was a lazy fuck I wouldn't have gotten up."   
"True." Dean smiled, kissing Castiel's cheek. "Over the sheets?"   
"Under."   
As he set Castiel down, Dean snuck a slow, leisurely kiss from Castiel's lips. He tasted like sleep, yet tasted good. How the hell was that possible? Dean lifted the sheet and draped it over Castiel again, smiling the whole time. Castiel, despite being tired, used his strength to keep Dean by the bed and prevent him from walking around to the other side.   
"Cuddle," Castiel announced.   
"I planned to," Dean replied.   
"No, no, no. Other way."   
"What are you talking about, baby?"   
"You cuddle up to me," Castiel clarified, like it was the most obvious thing on Earth. "Down."   
"Cas, I'm not-"   
"Just do it. Might find it comfy." Castiel smiled, tugging on Dean's pants where his hand was hooked in. "Down."   
Dean sighed again and rolled his eyes, smiling softly. "Whatever," he mumbled, sitting down and curling up to Castiel. His arm slid across Castiel's stomach while his head rested on his shoulder. Castiel's arm wrapped around his shoulders and held him close, hand on his upper arm.   
He had to admit that it felt nice. He'd never been one for cuddling up to someone else, but this felt good. It was soothing and soft. He could hear Castiel's heartbeat even in his shoulder and could feel Castiel's slow breathing. Lips pressed to his forehead and Dean smiled again, letting his eyes close.   
Man, he was deep.   
As he stayed there, laying on Castiel and smiling, Dean thought about everything they'd already been through and hoped they could just enjoy some peace for longer than three months. They definitely deserved it.   
Then he fell asleep again.


	3. 3: Proposal

The morning was slow. They lazed around in their boxers without shirts on, laying in bed before moving to the couch. They ended up back in bed, though, because it was too hot to lay on the leather couch; they were sticking to it and that was uncomfortable. 

"I need coffee," Dean announced, looking up at the ceiling. His eyes darted down to  Castiel . 

"So make some,"  Castiel  remarked from down by Dean's feet. 

A smile crossed Dean's lips. He elbowed  Castiel's  legs. "I don't mean that warm shit. It's already too hot. Let's go to the coffee shop down where I used to live. The one with the bar." 

"Don't they serve warm drinks?" 

"And cold," Dean offered, smiling. "Come on,  Cas . Please?" 

"But that means getting dressed and getting in the leather interior of your car-"

"-with the windows down, letting the air in like you love-"

"-where it's hot and humid." 

" Cas ," Dean sighed. "Please? For me? It'll be fun." His hand rested on  Castiel's  thigh, gently squeezing it. "We'll be able to escape this hell hole of a house without air conditioning." 

"Hey, you're the one who said you'd fix it when it broke two days ago!"

"That was until I remembered how good you look with sweat making your body shine, now get up. We're going to get coffee." 

"I refuse to drink coffee right now." 

"Fine," Dean smiled as he sat up, kissing  Castiel  lightly afterward. "Then you can get tea. Get your pretty little ass up before I make you get up." 

At that, Dean walked to the closet and chose out his thinnest pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He also tossed clothes to  Castiel , who groaned in response and tried to fling them back at Dean. 

"Oh, buck up, baby," Dean smirked, buttoning and zipping his jeans. He shook the legs of them out. Fuck, it was hot as fuck. "Get dressed." 

"No. I'm never moving again." 

" Cas , it's just a little heat! Get up." 

"Little heat, my ass." 

Dean chuckled, tugging his shirt over his head. "Get the fuck up, art boy, or I will make you." 

"Make me,"  Castiel  taunted, sticking his tongue out at Dean. 

Amused, Dean flopped down on the bed again, right next to  Castiel . He leaned in close to his ear. "Get up," he whispered through clenched teeth. It only made  Castiel  laugh. Dean smirked and started to tickle him, a defense he had found months ago. 

Castiel's  laughter grew and he tried to push Dean's hands away, but Dean refused. Those hands latched onto his t-shirt and Dean paused, grinning down at  Castiel , who was staring up at him with wide, mirthful eyes. 

"I'm not getting up." 

"Maybe another approach?" Dean mumbled, more to himself than to  Cas . "Please get up? Please? For me?"

"Too whiny. Try again." 

"Come on, Cas. This isn't funn-"

"Yes, it is. You're having fun, I can tell." 

"Okay, I was about to lie. But, really, Cas, please get up?"

"Make me," he insisted, lifting his chin a little. 

Dean smirked and checked out the expanse of skin ready for him. It was like a buffet of Castiel. He slid his leg over Castiel's waist, straddling him and dropping his lips to Castiel's neck. "Get up," he whispered into the nape of his neck, "before I fucking tear you apart." 

"You know, that's probably not the best way to get me up," Castiel whispered back, hands in Dean's hair. "I want you to tear me apart." 

Dean smiled and nuzzled Castiel's collarbone, lips landing in the crook of it. "And I want to tear you apart, but I need coffee to be able to do that. I need energy." 

Castiel laughed and leaned up into Dean's touch. "Fine," he mumbled. "But only if you fuck me to pieces when we get back." 

"Will do, hot stuff. Get dressed." 

In twenty minutes, they were at the shop and ordering. They ordered to-go, then left the shop to go on a walk around the city because the shop wasn't air-conditioned either and it was packed. There were too many hot bodies crammed together in there. 

"It's hot," Castiel whined, clutching his tea as if it would cool him down like ice. "Make it stop, Dean." 

"I think it's just you," Dean teased, gently hitting his arm against Castiel's. "It's just finally caught up with you." 

"Whatever," Castiel laughed, reaching out and taking Dean's iced coffee. 

"Hey!" Dean held his hand out for the cup. Once he had it back, he took a sip. "Thank you."

"Nah, thank you. That stuff is good. It's much better than my tea." 

"That's why it's called a coffee shop, Cas." 

"Well, tea is like coffee too, just healthier." 

"Whatever. Just drink your tea and shut up." 

***

A familiar man stood in front of Dean. His eyes were a familiar blue, but his dark hair was slicked and short, not long and messy like Dean was used to. 

He was also young. The wrinkles and tan he was used to weren't there. 

"Dad?" 

"Not quite," he smiled, taking a step closer to Dean. It was unsuccessful, though, because Dean just stepped back. "Oh, come on, Dean. I've been talking to you for the past month." 

"What?" 

"Yeah," he smiled. When he stepped forward again, Dean found he couldn't move. 

"Fuck-" 

"Watch your language, Dean. My name is Michael." 

"So you're the one I've woken up thinking about..." 

"Yes, I am. I've been trying to talk to you but you keep forgetting it." 

"I'm not sure if that's good or bad." 

"It's bad." 

"Ah, well, in my book it's a good thing. I don't want to remember it." 

"Funny. You say that every night."

"Because it's true." 

"Just... Just hear me out, Dean Winchester." Michael stepped forward again. He was standing right in front of Dean. "Tell me where you want to go." 

"Paris, France." Dean decided, choosing the impossible. There was no way this dude could take him there in an instant unless this was a dream and wasn't real. 

The scenery around them changed into a bustling city street lit in morning light. Dean could see the Eiffel tower standing above them, making them into ants. 

This was definitely a dream. 

"Okay. Walk with me." 

Dean had no choice but to obey. He couldn't walk away because his feet wouldn't move. So he walked alongside Michael, looking at his bare feet. It all seemed so real. He could feel the pavement scratching against his feet, hear the people speaking French around him, smell the bread baking in the bakery they passed... It was too real. 

"I was the one who took Sam from you. I placed him in Heaven with Jessica," Michael said, and everything around them went silent. Dean could still see mouths moving, however. "I preserved Castiel long enough for him to survive. I... I needed on your good side." 

"You needed on my good side?"

"Yes. I'm an angel, Dean." 

"Wait, an angel? There's no such thing."

"Yes, there actually is. Your brother was not lying to you when he told you there were- are- other supernatural beings. Angels, demons, vampires... It's all real. Everything you can think of." Michael stopped Dean. "I am the archangel Michael." 

"Like... Revelations, biblical Michael?"

"Yes. Everything is real. Including me." 

Dean swallowed thickly. Angels were real... Everything his brother had talked about was real...? He'd been hurting his brother, pushing him to the edge and over the cliff, denying something that was fact and not fiction. 

"Son of a bitch..." He exhaled the words, eyes closing. "I'm a fucking ass." 

Michael chuckled as Dean opened his eyes. "That's not how I would word it, but I suppose you could say that. I'm sorry that you had to go through what you did, Dean." 

"I am too." 

Another laugh came from the angel. "I'm actually here on... business, I suppose, Dean. I have something to propose to you, and I need you to say yes.

"When your brother took Castiel as a vessel, he... He rose my brother from Hell. I'm the archangel Michael. Do you know who my brother is?"

 He didn't wait for Dean to respond. "Lucifer. Your brother rose my brother from the cage he was locked in in Hell. Lucifer wants to wreak havoc wherever he goes on Earth. He despises humans; he wants to see them dead. Lucifer wants the planet to be his, to be full of demons. I cannot let that happen. 

"That's where you come in, Dean Winchester. I need you to be my vessel. I need you to let me inside your body, to let me control it so that I can send Lucifer back to where he belongs and save your planet. I want to save the people of Earth, Dean. That includes your lover, all of those students you have taught, all of your friends, and more. I want to keep it going. I want humanity to survive. Don't you?"

Dean merely nodded, unable to speak. 

"Dean, if you don't say yes, I cannot stress how bad that would be. The planet would turn into... The planet would turn into Hell. Every human would be dead, and if there were any left, they would be like slaves. 

"You have to say yes, Dean. I will take care of my brother and send you right back to your lover. You have my word." 

Damn... That was a hard bargain. By saying yes, Dean could save millions- _billions_ \- of lives. One simple word. By saying no, he could damn just as many to Hell... 

As he opened his mouth to reply to Michael, his eyes opened and he was no longer on the sidewalk in Paris, France. 

" _NO_!" A piercing scream rang out next to Dean, making him sit up immediately. " _LET HIM GO!_ " 

Castiel was thrashing next to Dean, as if he was trying to break free of some kind of hold. Dean stared at him in shock, breath caught in his throat, as he convulsed and let out a wordless shriek. 

Then another came right after. 

" _LET DEAN GO! DON'T HURT HIM!_ "

"Fuck..." Dean exhaled, moving so that he was straddling Castiel's waist. Castiel started kicking too. "Fuck, Cas, you've got a fucking pair of legs on you. No more running for you." 

That's when he noticed the tears streaming down Castiel's cheeks. His hands curled around Castiel's face and he leaned down to kiss him. As he pressed his lips to Castiel's, a scream filled Dean's mouth. When the kiss didn't work, Dean tried other methods. He slid his hands down Castiel's chest and kissed his cheeks, whispering soothing things into his ear softly. One hand lifted to Castiel's cheek again, gently wiping away a tear, as Dean whispered against his ear. 

"Calm down, angel. I'm right here. I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm not being hurt." 

Castiel was hyperventilating now, shaking and still trying to get free of whatever was holding him down in the dream. The tears were coming faster. 

"Angel, Cas, calm down. Breathe. You're having a nightmare." 

That somehow made it worse. 

"Fuck!" Dean shouted as he pulled back. 

Castiel let out a broken sob and something inside of Dean fell apart. "Don't touch him. No. No." Castiel started to convulse again, another wordless scream ripping out of him. 

" _DON'T TOUCH HIM_!" 

That was it. Dean couldn't let Castiel scream for the rest of the night. He had tried everything else... It was the only thing left. 

Dean lifted his hand, wincing as he did. "I'm sorry, baby doll," he whispered, then slapped Castiel across the face. 

Cas woke with a frantic gasp, clutching at Dean's shirt. His eyes were wide. 

One of his hands moved to his reddened cheek and he stared in silent confusion and shock at Dean. 

"Dean?" He whispered, voice rough from screaming. "What-?"

"You were having a nightmare," Dean replied, his fingers gently combing back Castiel hair. He wiped the cheek that Castiel's hand wasn't on. "You wouldn't wake up, so I had to go to the last resort." 

A soft, choked laugh fell from Castiel's lips and he sat up. "Last resort. You've got quite the slap." 

"And you've got a strong pair of lungs." Dean smiled sadly at him, hand sliding behind his head and pulling him forward a little. Lips pressed against Castiel's forehead, he realized what was making him feel sick now that his baby was done screaming. 

Blood. He could taste blood in his mouth again. 


	4. 4: Answers

The water was warm and the air was cold.

It had been three days since Dean had succumbed and fixed the air conditioning, though that had mostly been because of  Castiel's  constant whining and the fact that  Cas  had threatened to start crying if he couldn't use a blanket for another night in a row. Now  Castiel  was forcing Dean to take a bath with him because he had been feeling stressed lately. 

"Like a bath is going to help," Dean scoffed when  Castiel  walked away, because he knew what it was even if  Castiel  didn't tell him. 

Cas  had been having nightmares every night. Dean hadn't spoken to Michael since the first nightmare, either, and that was a week ago. Something was going on, and Dean wanted to figure it out. 

Castiel  walked into the room and smiled at Dean. "Thought you were going to wait for me." 

"Too cold," Dean grinned in response. 

Castiel  laughed and pulled off his shirt and boxers. How the guy survived in that in the 50 degrees house was something Dean wanted to know more than ever, but he was distracted when  Castiel  stepped into the bath and settled down between Dean's legs. His body leaned back against Dean, and it felt amazing.

 Without another thought, Dean closed his eyes and dropped his head to  Castiel's  shoulder, face against his neck. "I love you," he whispered. 

"I love you too, Dean,"  Castiel  sighed, hand lifting to the back of Dean's neck. Warm water slid down Dean's shoulder blades. "I'm really glad you're still here." 

"I'm not going anywhere, baby doll," Dean promised. His lips pressed against  Castiel's  warm neck. 

"I hope not."  Castiel  leaned his head back against Dean's shoulder. "I'd be so lost." His fingernails gently scratched the knob of Dean's spine. 

"I'd be lost without you too," Dean mumbled, thinking about how close he'd come to having to experience that. "I was lost without you." 

Castiel's  hand stopped moving. Dean felt him swallow thickly and sighed, kissing his neck again. He sat back, arms around  Castiel  from behind, looking up at the white ceiling. The paint was cracking in the corner. He'd have to tell  Castiel  sometime. 

"I'm sorry." 

Castiel's  voice was raspy, like he was about to cry. Dean's eyes darted back down and his lips parted. His arms tightened around  Castiel  and he leaned forward, leaning over him to kiss his cheek. 

"It wasn't your fault,  Cas . Don't worry about it. It's all in the past now." 

When  Castiel  turned to look at Dean, Dean captured his lips in a long, slow kiss. The kiss continued for a few minutes until  Castiel  smiled into it and Dean couldn't help smiling back. 

"Feeling better?" Dean asked softly, lifting one hand to  Castiel's  cheek. 

"Other than the sore spot on my neck, yes. Thank you."  Castiel  leaned into Dean's touch, smiling still. "Let's relax." 

"I thought we were." 

***

That night, Michael showed up again. 

It was instantaneous. Dean fell asleep quickly,  Castiel  curled around him, naked and happy. 

In his dream he, luckily, was clothed and back on the street in Paris. 

"Have you decided? Will you be my vessel, Dean?" 

"No. I won't." 

Michael appeared suddenly in front of Dean, all angelic rage. "What?" His voice boomed. Dean felt it resonate through his body, making it hard to breathe. "Do you not remember what I said?! Billions will die, Dean Winchester." 

"And I made a promise to my boyfriend that I wouldn't leave him." Dean hissed. Standing up to the angel was easy when he thought of  Castiel . "I plan to go through with that promise, Michael. I am not going to put  Castiel  through what I went through." 

"So I'll leave him a note. I will tell him what I told you so that he will understand." 

"No. That's not the same." Dean was staring into the angel's eyes, jaw set. He wasn't going to do this, no matter what. "I refuse to let you into my body. I will not be your vessel, Michael." 

"I can create a mess out of everything in your life, Dean Winchester. I can manipulate fate." Michael's eyes were glowing. Literally. His voice sounded calm, but Dean was able to tell how angry he was. "I can make your life into a version of Hell, Dean. Don't tempt me." 

"Do it. I'll still say no." 

Those were the last words Dean said to Michael. 

He woke to  Castiel's  screaming again. This time, though,  Castiel  wouldn't wake up. He just kept thrashing and screaming, trying to get free of his invisible bonds. His arms shoved against Dean, who was trying his hardest to put up a fight and push  Castiel's  arms down. As he did every night, Dean started by trying to say soothing things, but he couldn't be heard over  Castiel's  screams. That was useless. 

Everything was useless. Nothing woke  Castiel  up this time. Dean even screamed back at him, shaking his shoulders, and he didn't wake up.

Cas  was stuck, and it seemed like he wasn't coming back. 

After a few hours of trying to wake  Castiel  up, Dean figured there was nothing he could do but try to block it out. Tears streaming down his face, he retreated into the bathroom, trying to stay close but far away. 

He could still hear the screaming and the squeaks of the bedsprings as  Castiel  struggled. 

"Stop it," he sobbed, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. "Stop it! Make it stop!" His hands clamped over his ears, trying to make it go away. All of it. He wanted it all gone. Gone, gone, gone! "Leave me alone!"

Dean continued sobbing even after the sounds from the bedroom stopped. He sobbed openly, heart pounding, tears streaming down his cheeks, broken little noises coming from his throat, as he rocked back and forth on the tiled bathroom floor.

There was another squeak and he cringed, curling in on himself. "No," he sobbed, hands still covering his ears. "No more. Stop it. Don't-" He sniffed. Another broken, wordless sob fell out of him. "Don't put him through this anymore. He doesn't deserve it. I do." 

It wasn't until morning, when Dean woke up on the floor, that Dean forced composure and made himself face  Castiel  again. 

He washed his face with water from the sink, wiped it with the hand towel, and stared at himself for a few seconds in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot from falling asleep crying. 

"Time to face the beast," he decided in a whisper. "Let's do this, Dean-o." 

He stepped into the bedroom to find it empty. " Cas ?" he called, stepping out into the hallway. 

"In the kitchen,"  Castiel  called back, voice muffled by the walls. Dean felt a small smile tug at his lips. 

When he walked into the kitchen,  Castiel  was leaning against the counter with his eyes closed, stark naked and nursing a cup of coffee. Dean pulled a mug down from the cabinet and poured a mug for himself, only then realizing he was naked too. A laugh spilled out of him. 

"This probably isn't sanitary," he admitted, catching  Castiel's  eye.  Cas  smiled and shrugged slightly. "Not to mention it's fucking cold. You want me to bring some clothes out for you? I need 'em." 

Another shrug. 

Dean couldn't help but feel like something worse than the dream had happened as he set his mug down and walked back to the bedroom and hurriedly dressed himself. He grabbed a sweater, t-shirt, boxers, and jeans for  Castiel , making the decision to force  Cas  to wear the sweater today. He wasn't letting his baby get sick. 

When he wandered back into the kitchen,  Castiel  was pouring another mug of coffee. His posture was even mopey. 

"I've got clothes, baby. You want me to dress you?" Dean announced, slinging the clothing over his shoulder and sliding his arms around  Castiel's  torso. "Not that I don't like seeing your naked ass, but you need clothes. It's cold in here." 

"I'm not a child, Dean,"  Castiel  whispered, but Dean could hear the small smile in it. 

"I know. It's fun to treat you like one, though. Do you want me to dress you?"

"I guess, if you want to." 

At that, Dean planted a kiss on  Castiel's  shoulder and slid the boxers off of his own shoulder. 

Five minutes later, due to kissing breaks,  Castiel  was dressed and Dean was trying to get him to put on the damn sweater. 

"Put it on." 

"No."

"Dammit,  Cas , just put the fucking sweater on!" 

"No! I'm fine." 

"I don't want you to get sick. Put it on." 

"Dean-"

"Put the fucking sweater on before I force it onto you." 

"You wouldn't!"

"I would! You're acting like a child!" 

"I am not!"

"You are! Put the sweater on!"

"Only if you tell me why you were crying last night!" 

Dean dropped the sweater in shock. His eyes widened. " Wh -"

"Yeah, I heard you. I woke up screaming and flailing, and when I stopped myself from continuing, I saw the bathroom light was on and then heard some noises. I started to get up, but then I noticed what it was. If you're sobbing in there every night, why didn't you tell me?"  Castiel's  expression was pained and hurt. "I don't understand, Dean." 

"I don't cry every night," Dean whispered. "I barely ever cry. I-" A nervous cough escaped. "I don't know. I tried to wake you up last night, and you wouldn't wake up, and I just... I broke." His gaze moved to the side and then down. "I couldn't keep it in." 

"Dean-" 

"You were screaming and crying and throwing punches and practically convulsing and nothing worked,  Cas ! I freaked out, imagining you stuck like that forever-"

Castiel  shut Dean up with a kiss. His arms slid around Dean's waist, pulling him into a tight hug as they pulled apart. 

"I'm not stuck like that,"  Castiel  whispered against Dean's ear, one of his hands in Dean's messy hair. "I won't ever be, Dean. I know you were probably scared." 

"I still am." 

"It's scary at the time, but remember that it doesn't last forever."  Castiel's  fingers moved in Dean's hair as he spoke. Somehow, the action was calming and practically put Dean to sleep. He relaxed in  Castiel's  arms, eyes closed, and slid his own arms around  Castiel's  torso. "I wouldn't let it happen to myself. I love you too much to do that." 

Dean choked out a tiny laugh, burying his face in  Castiel's  shoulder and breathing in that everlasting scent of paint and citrus. "I love you,  Cas ." 


	5. 5: Late Night

_ Stars shining bright above you,  _

_ Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you," _

_ Birds singing in the sycamore trees,  _

_ Dream a little dream of me... _

Dean smiled down at Castiel, rolling his eyes when Castiel pulled himself closer. "This is so cheesy," he whispered into Castiel's mop of dark hair. 

"It's nice," Castiel protested, looking up at Dean. There was a smile lurking behind his eyes. Dean leaned in for a kiss, but faked out and spun Castiel instead. 

The laugh it produced was totally worth it. 

When Dean slid his arm around Castiel's waist again, their other hands still clasped together and raised, he pressed a kiss to Castiel's lips. 

It felt wrong. 

That's how Dean knew it was a dream. 

"Michael," he hissed, then saw Castiel's form grow. The music stopped playing. 

"You're smarter than you let on, Dean Winchester." Michael smiled, cocking his head to the side slightly. "If you said yes, you'd be even smarter." 

"No." Dean sighed, crossing his arms. "No, Michael, and that's fucking final. I'm not going to be a pawn in your apocalyptic game of chess. Take your business somewhere else." 

"You know, Dean, by saying no, you're just damning more people to Hell. When souls go to Hell, they're tortured until they give in and say yes to becoming the torturer. That leads them to becoming demons, also known as- as you would put it- pawns in the apocalyptic game of chess I am participating in." Michael stared him down, but Dean refused to give in. 

"Fine," Michael shrugged. "Maybe I'll keep you in here forever, or at least until you say yes. You'll practically be comatose, Winchester, until you die of starvation."

"I can't say yes to you if I'm dead," Dean pointed out. 

Michael turned to him with a finger raised. "Yes, you can. Your soul is assigned to Heaven, currently, and I can just as easily lock you up in my plane as I can herd, on Earth. Do not underestimate me, Dean Winchester." 

"I'm not. I just want to go back to normal. I promised myself I was done with this supernatural shit. Just let me go. I'm never going to agree to your stupid ploy." 

"You're being selfish," Michael hissed. 

"So sue me," Dean quipped, setting his jaw. He wasn't going to talk to the dick anymore. Fuck him. 

"Dean Winchester, you are in for a lot of trouble from me." 

"So you've told me. Let me go." 

Pain blossomed on Dean's cheek. 

Castiel was sitting over Dean, tears streaming down his face, barely visible in the darkness. Dean could hear Castiel sniffing and could feel him shaking though, so he sat up and slid his arms around his baby's waist, holding him close. 

"Nightmare?" Dean asked softly, fingers gently combing through Castiel's hair. All he got in return was a small nod. "You got out of it this time, baby." 

"Yeah," Castiel rasped, clinging to Dean. "I did. You wouldn't wake up, though." 

"I'm glad you woke me up." Dean kissed Castiel's shoulder, holding him as close as possible while he sat on his lap. "Could've been nicer about it, but I'm glad you did." 

A small, broken laugh came from Castiel. "Revenge is best served unexpected." 

"Damn right," Dean chuckled, hands tightening in Castiel's shirt. "Lay down again, baby. I'll put on some music or a movie." 

"Put on something you want to listen to," Castiel told Dean as he reluctantly let go of him. "We always listen to my stuff, I want to listen to yours." 

Dean smiled and pushed hair off od Castiel's forehead. "You know, my choice in music isn't exactly proper to play at night." 

"Just do it," Castiel sighed, smiling. "Please." 

With a laugh, Dean slid out of bed and walked into the living room, still half asleep despite having been slapped awake. 

He slid out a random CD from his side of the collection, checking to see what it was on his way back to the bedroom. AC/DC's _Back in Black_. A laugh fell from his lips again. This should be interesting. 

Once back in the room, Dean found Castiel sitting up in bed, staring down at the blue sheets, picking at a loose string on the blanket. Smiling, he slid the CD into the DVD player, hitting play and turning down the brightness on the television. As Hell's Bells started to play, he slipped back into bed next to Castiel, lips pressing to Castiel's upper arm, then his shoulder, then his neck. He closed his eyes and accepted Castiel's soft kiss, his hand on Castiel's cotton covered shoulder. The pads of Castiel's fingers pressed against the side of Dean's neck gently. After kissing one more time, Dean smiled slightly and pressed his forehead against Castiel's, his nose bumping against Castiel's softly. 

"Are you sure you want to listen to this?" Dean asked, his thumb smoothing a wrinkle on Castiel's shirt. "You don't want to listen to something else?"

"I'm good," Castiel whispered in response, his hand curving around the back of Dean's neck. "Just... tired. I don't want to go back to sleep, though. The nightmares are- They're too much. They're slowly getting worse." 

"What do you mean?" Dean tried to pull back slightly, but Castiel kept him there. "Cas-" 

"They're more realistic. It's like... Like memories are breaking through or something. I don't want to think about them anymore, though. Distract me." 

"Baby, it might help if-"

"Dean, I don't want to. Please don't make me."

Dean sighed, looking over Castiel's features. His mouth was turned down a little at the corners and his face was relaxed, but his eyes told another story. They were practically begging Dean to change the topic and make it more bearable. 

"Fine," he whispered, leaning in to kiss Castiel again. "Lay down with me." 

Castiel obeyed, laying on his side next to Dean, both of them facing each other. Their legs tangled together under the covers out of habit. Dean threw his arm over Castiel's torso, grinning when Castiel burrowed into the pillow slightly. 

"Dork," he whispered, sticking his tongue out. 

Castiel stuck his tongue out in response, then laughed, one of his hands lifting to Dean's cheek. Dean closed his eyes at the warmth pressed to his face, subconsciously leaning into the touch and exhaling slowly. When he opened his eyes again, Castiel was grinning affectionately at him, his pinky finger slowly tracing along Dean's jaw. 

"You know," Dean mumbled, breaking the silence, "I lost my virginity while listening to this CD. Of course, back then it was a cassette, but they're still the same songs." 

"Nice way to break the moment," Castiel laughed, and Dean noted the way he crinkled his nose. "But you're lying." 

"Nah," Dean shook his head slightly. "I'm not lying. I really did lose my virginity to this. Side B, _Let Me Put My Love Into You_." 

Castiel laughed harder, shaking his head. "There is no way you did that."

"Backseat of that car out there. I lost it to Cassie Robinson when we were seventeen." Dean grinned. "You want me to call her? We still keep in touch. You can ask her yourself-"

"I'm good," Castiel laughed, raising one hand in a sign of surrender. "I don't need to talk to any of your past flames." 

"How did you pop your cherry?"

"What?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shred the V-card." 

"Dean, English." 

"How the fuck did you lose your virginity, Cas?"

"Teacher's retreat in New Orleans." 

Dean raised an eyebrow. "And how old are you?"

"I'm the same age as you, Dean." 

"So you've been teaching for just as long?"

"Yes." 

"So you lost your virginity pretty recently?"

"Yes." Castiel's voice was a little aggravated. 

"But-" Dean scoffed softly. "You're lying to me. You're too hot to have lasted that long! Plus you're a fucking freak in the-" 

"I don't lie, Dean." 

"But- fuck-"

"Yes, that's generally what happened."

Dean tried his hardest not to laugh. "Dick," he teased, shaking his head as he laughed. 

"Back on track. You lost your virginity in New Orleans at a teacher's retreat." 

"That's what I said," Castiel smiled. 

"Three years ago."

"How did you-"

"I was there, Cas," Dean smiled. Laughing, he wiped at his mouth before speaking again. "That was you." 

"Wait, what?" Castiel tilted his head slightly, sitting up again. "I'm confu-"

"The second night of the retreat, did you get drunk off your mind?" Dean asked, sitting up as well. Castiel was holding his head in his hands, elbows on his folded knees. 

He nodded. 

"So did I. I woke up in my room with some guy I didn't know and a mess of condoms-"

"You're fucking kidding me!" Castiel practically yelled, turning to face Dean. "I did not-"

"You did," Dean grinned, fighting off his laughter. "You gave me your fucking V-card, Cas." That broke him. He fell back again, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. 

Castiel eventually started to laugh too, leaning over to bury his face in Dean's stomach as he laughed. "I can't believe this-"

"Me either," Dean laughed, one hand landing on Castiel's shoulder blade as he tried to catch his breath. "This is awesome." 

"If only you'd lost yours to me," Castiel chuckled, dropping a kiss to Dean's stomach. "Then it would have been like a romance movie." 

"Damn right," Dean laughed, then sighed. "I'm kind of shocked though," he admitted. "I swear I would have remembered that face. At least those eyes, or maybe the fucking." 

"We were pretty drunk," Castiel grinned, still using Dean's stomach as a pillow. "I don't blame you." 

"All I remember about the night-" Dean started to laugh again. "All I remember is that you would not shut up about Van Gogh." 

"He's misunderstood! His work is always interpreted wrong-"

"I've heard the same speech!" Dean laughed harder again, but sobered up when he saw Castiel's pained expression.

"When I woke up in the morning you were gone." Castiel mumbled, looking up at Dean. "That hurt. I'd just given you my virginity, and you just-"

"Up and left," Dean sighed. "I know. I- I was with Lisa at the time. She wasn't in New Orleans or anything, but I was dating her. I felt horrible for doing that to her..."

"So I gave my virginity to a taken man." Castiel whispered. "Talk about embarrassing." His eyes moved to the ceiling.

"Baby-" Dean whispered, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry. Like you said, we were drunk. We didn't know what we were doing. Neither of us did. That's kind of the beauty of it." 

"You find beauty in the fact that I lost my virginity when I was drunk and gave it to a taken man?"

"I find beauty in the fact that we're together now, realizing that that was what happened." Dean smiled. "Hey, don't forget you got revenge on me, either. When you first started here in Lawrence?" 

"Yeah..." Castiel sighed, eyes closing. "I suppose that was almost as bad. Especially with how we treated each other after..." 

Dean rubbed Castiel's back gently. "Go to sleep, baby. I'll stay up and watch over you. I won't let you have any nightmares. I'll wake you up before they get you." 


	6. 6: Cemetery

"NO!" 

Dean groaned softly and threw his arm over  Castiel's  body, tugging him close and whispering against his ear, all with his eyes closed. "It's a nightmare, baby," he whispered, gently and lazily hitting  Castiel's  shoulder. "Wake up. It's okay." 

Castiel  managed to break out of it after that. He stopped screaming and stopped thrashing, falling back down and shaking slightly. Dean kissed his cheek and slid his arms around  Castiel , holding him close. 

"It's all okay, baby," he whispered, feeling  Castiel  burrow into his shoulder. "It wasn't real. I'm right here and I'm okay. You're right here and you're okay." 

"Stay with me forever,"  Castiel  breathed against Dean's skin. 

Dean could feel the words resonating through his body. His arms tightened around  Castiel  and he felt his throat close up. "I will," he replied, burying his face in  Castiel's  hair. "I'll stay with you forever,  Cas ." 

Tears were building in the corners of Dean's eyes. His lip was trembling. His breathing was growing shaky and deep. Fuck,  Castiel  had him fucking whipped. Like he could even think about going anywhere. 

"I promise," he whispered, resigning himself to it. Nothing was going to take him away.

No angels, no demons, no ghosts. Nothing would tear him away from his  Cas .

***

Four nights later, after a week of silence, Dean was starting to believe his dreams were just dreams. Michael hadn't shown up in nights. 

Every night was a routine, though. Go to sleep. Wake up and calm  Castiel  down. Fall back asleep. Wake up and calm  Castiel  down again. Then sleep until mid-morning. Every night. 

Frankly, Dean was starting to grow tired of it and he wanted to help  Castiel  as much as possible, but he didn't know how. They'd tried everything. They had tried medicine, alcohol (which only made it worse, but the sex had been amazing...), everything. Nothing worked. 

Then they just stopped. No more screaming, no more thrashing.  Castiel  slept peacefully all through the night, curled up to Dean's side, and Dean could verify it because he woke up at the usual times to try and calm down  Cas . But he didn't have to.

Castiel  woke up happy and grinning. He almost literally hopped out of bed, practically skipped into the kitchen, and hummed as he made coffee. 

"Okay," Dean shook his head, arms curling around  Castiel's  waist.  Castiel  swayed, taking Dean with him. They went from foot to foot in sync. It pulled laughter from both of them. "This is kind of scary. What's gotten into you, baby doll?" 

"Sleep,"  Castiel  chirped, turning in Dean's arms and tossing his arms loosely around Dean's neck. He pulled him into a long, deep kiss, leaning back against the counter so that Dean was towering over him, hands on his hips. Lithe fingers curled into Dean's short sandy hair and a moan was expelled into his mouth. 

The coffeemaker beeped and Dean groaned softly, peeling himself off of  Castiel's  lips. "Is it worth-"

Those lips captured his again. 

"Apparently not," Dean whispered in-between kisses, fingers digging into  Castiel's  waistband and tugging him forward. 

***

Smiles painted their faces through to the next day. 

Dean had something planned for that day, too. He just hoped  Castiel  liked it.

Before  Cas  could wake up, Dean slid a picnic basket full of food and ice packs into the back of the car. It was around ten a.m., so it wouldn't spoil by the time Dean got  Castiel  awake and ready to go. As he walked back inside, he narrowly escaped a falling leaf. 

Fall was coming, wasn't it? It was the second week of August now... A sigh fell from his lips and he shook his head. Fall meant work. Fall meant that the summer would end. 

He didn't want to summer to end. 

Dean sighed at the green leaf and shook his head slowly, turning to walk inside. Once inside, he hurried into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to smile at  Castiel , who was asleep. His lips were parted because his cheek was smashed against the pillow. Naturally,  Castiel's  hair was a tangle of darkness. The covers were half on his legs, only covering from the knees down, and his arm was draped over Dean's empty spot on the bed. 

Just as he'd been left an hour ago. 

"Wake up," Dean said from the doorway. It did nothing. So he walked to the edge of the bed, leaning over the blue sheets and his lover, and whispered against his ear. " Cas , wake up." His teeth latched onto the edge of  Castiel's  ear. It drew a groan from the man. Dean let go and smiled, nosing at  Castiel's  cheek. "Wake up or I'll kiss you."

"Not much of a threat,"  Cas  grunted, rolling over so that his back was to Dean. "Let me sleep."

"No way, baby doll. I've got something planned for the day. I need you up and running, and I need it soon. Rise and shine, sleepy." He swatted  Castiel's  ass. "I'll buy you something from the coffeehouse if that sweetens the deal. I'll go get it right now if you promise to get up and get ready to go somewhere."

Castiel  nodded slightly, rolling onto his back and staring up at Dean sleepily. "Iced coffee. Like last time."

Dean grinned, kissing  Castiel  slowly. "Got it. Get your pretty ass up, or I'll keep the coffee for myself." 

Half an hour later,  Castiel  was locking the door behind him on his way to the impala. He slid into the passenger seat and smiled at Dean, accepting his coffee with a toothpaste flavored kiss. 

Castiel  took a sip and practically melted into the leather as Dean pulled out of the driveway. "I love you,"  Castiel  groaned happily, cradling the cup in both hands. 

"I need to buy you coffee more often," Dean teased, arm stretching across the bench seat. His hand landed on the seat just behind  Castiel's  head. "Though, I can think of cheaper, more fun ways to make you-"

"Hey! No sex talk if we're going out. That's not fair."

"All's fair in love and war," Dean teased, knowing he was using the phrase incorrectly. 

"This isn't war,"  Cas  replied. "I need music. Do you mind?"

"Shotgun can pick the music today. Go crazy." 

Castiel  laughed and hit play on whatever was already in the player, but Dean knew what it was. Smooth, sultry tones spilled from the speakers in the car. "Ella,"  Castiel  sighed happily again, turning up the music so that she was the only sound filling the interior of the car. Dean gently played with  Castiel's  hair, smiling when  Castiel  rolled down the window and leaned back into his hand.  Castiel's  head tilted to the side so that he could look at Dean. When they made eye contact at a stoplight, Dean leaned over and kissed him gently. 

"I love you, angel," Dean whispered, leaning back again.  Castiel  just grinned back, knowing Dean wouldn't hear him over the music. 

They reached their destination and  Castiel  frowned. "The cemetery? Dean-"

"Just shut up," Dean mumbled, stealing another kiss from  Castiel  as he opened the door. He hurried around the front of the car and opened  Castiel's  door, jokingly bowing and holding out his hand. He heard  Cas  laugh as he accepted the hand, then helped  Castiel  out of the car. 

"Dean, is this what-"

"No questions. It's a surprise." Dean grinned, kissing his cheek. "A date, almost."

"A little macabre for a date,"  Cas  remarked, following behind Dean to the back of the car. Dean opened the trunk and pulled out the basket, grinning at  Cas . "A picnic in the cemetery." 

"That's the idea of it. Come on, baby."

Dean had parked next to a specific row and was surprised  Castiel  hadn't noticed it. Once they stopped, though, he seemed to know. Dean set down the basket and took a chance to look at  Castiel's  expression.

Sadness. He was biting his lip like he was trying to keep it from shaking. His eyes were watery as he looked down at the graves. Charles and Naomi Novak. 

Dean smiled sadly and slid his arm around  Castiel's  waist. "Come on, baby, sit down," he whispered. "Visit." 

Castiel  turned to face him and smiled slightly, taking his time to kiss Dean. It was probably a little longer than should have been allowed in front of parents, but Dean didn't protest. Once  Castiel  seemed to be finished, Dean had to pull him down. The artist ended up in Dean's lap, smiling slightly at Dean. "I love you, you idiot. How did you-"

"I didn't know it was today," Dean admitted, flipping open one side of the traditional picnic basket. "I only knew it was sometime in August and I chose a day." 

Castiel  exhaled sharply as a laugh as he lifted his cup to his lips. Dean smiled and watched him before pulling out a sandwich and dropping it on  Castiel's  knee.  Castiel  smiled and looked back at Dean, shaking his head slightly. "I can't believe you did this."

"It's always good to visit them, you know," Dean commented, holding his own sandwich between his teeth and searching for the bottles of water he knew he put in there. "Sometimes when you're asleep and I can't sleep I come out here and visit my own parents." 

Castiel  looked back at him as he bit into his sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly- his favorite. Dean smiled when he caught his gaze and pulled out a bottle of water triumphantly. 

"You can talk to them if you want," Dean told him softly. "It's not like I'll judge." 

"I- I know,"  Castiel  mumbled, licking his lips. Lifting his coffee again, he shrugged. "I'm just not sure of what to say yet..." 

Dean smiled and snuck a kiss onto  Castiel's  cheek before taking a swig of water and letting his free arm slide around  Castiel's  waist. "Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Milton. You- uh- you probably don't know me unless you've seen me wandering around somewhere or something. I'm Dean Winchester, and I'm..." Dean's eyes moved to  Castiel , wandering up and down slowly as a smile spread on his face. "I'm dating your son." His eyes moved back to the graves, studying them like he was listening to a lecture from Mr. Milton. 

"Y- Mr. Milton, I know. I plan to treat him nice. I've done a crap job so far-" At that,  Castiel  slapped Dean's knee  scoldingly . Dean grinned. "-but I plan to do a better job. I've done great these past few months, I think... How long has this been going on? Uh-" He looked at  Castiel  again, raising an eyebrow and shrugging. "Almost a year? It's August now... Eleven months." 

Castiel  grinned at him, eyes teary again. 

Dean smiled more and kissed  Castiel's  cheek before taking a bite of his sandwich. 

They sat like that for around an hour, picking their way through the food Dean had packed, telling  Castiel's  parents stories. Dean listened to  Castiel's  stories about his parents, grinning at the enthusiasm he had for it. It was fun, in all reality. There wasn't a better way to spend an August day. 

Once they hit a long silence, Dean leaned over  Castiel's  shoulder and kissed his cheek, whispering against it. "Maybe we should pack up and go back home..." 

Castiel  looked back at Dean and smiled slightly, tears in his eyes. Dean hadn't noticed that until now... "Okay," he whispered, voice rough. "Let's pack up."

So they did. 

Dean stood up with the picnic basket in hand, holding a hand out to  Castiel  to help him up. However,  Castiel  just stared ahead, at the graves in front of him, looking like he was having trouble breathing. "Can I-" he started, then took a deep breath. His eyes closed. "Can I have a moment, Dean? I'll meet you back at the car."

"Yeah," Dean whispered, smiling softly. Fingers combed through  Castiel's  hair, pushing the hair off of his forehead. Dean leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. "Meet me back at the car." 

On the walk back to the car, Dean kept looking over his shoulder to see  Castiel  sitting in the same spot, legs folded beneath him. Every time Dean looked back, though, he moved a little. The first time, he was staring straight ahead. The second, his head was in his hands. The third, he was sitting up again. Dean reached the car at that time. He opened the trunk and put the picnic basket in, then slammed it shut and leaned against the side of the car to wait for  Castiel , thinking about how lucky he was.

He was lucky to have someone like  Castiel . Someone who knew how to laugh even if he was sad, someone who wasn't afraid of showing his emotions, someone who he could be comfortable with. He was beyond lucky to call him his for almost a year, now. 

Castiel  stood up after a few minutes, wiping off his pants as he did, and shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked to Dean. Once he reached him, he lifted his hands and placed them on Dean's cheeks, pulling him down into a long kiss. 

"Thank you, Dean. Really, I-"

"Don't worry about it,  Cas ," Dean whispered, eyes closed. "It was simple."

"Still."

Dean smiled, kissing  Castiel  one more time. "Let's go."

"Wait. I want to-"  Castiel  coughed slightly, almost awkwardly and nervously. "I want to talk to your parents."

Dean's smile fell. " Cas -"

"Please? Just- Just let me meet your parents." 

Dean swallowed thickly, sighing afterward. "Fine," he whispered, rubbing a hand over his mouth. His hand closed around  Castiel's . He led  Castiel  to his parents, three rows away from  Castiel's  own parents. 

"John and Mary Winchester," Dean announced, smiling slightly. "Hey Mom, Dad." 

Castiel  smiled and squeezed Dean's hand. 

They spent almost as long with Dean's parents,  Castiel  doing most of the talking. 

When they left, both of them were quiet and brooding over their thoughts. The voice of Ella Fitzgerald filled the interior of the car, soon joined by  Castiel's  quiet humming, on their way back to their home. 


	7. 7: Bargaining

"I'm going to be in my room,"  Castiel  whispered against Dean's lips, smiling. "I need to paint something. We're in need of money."

"School is about to start, though, baby," Dean replied, thumbs painting circles into  Castiel's  hips as he pulled back a little. "We can last that long, can't we?"

"Not if we plan to pay bills."  Castiel  laughed. "I'll be back out later. I promise. I won't leave you alone all day."

Sighing, Dean leaned in to kiss him again. "You better be. If you aren't, you're getting punished."

"Mm, maybe I'll stay back there, then..."

Dean laughed, hand wandering down to squeeze  Castiel's  ass. "Don't you dare. Come back to me."

Castiel  laughed again, kissing him again. "I wouldn't dream of doing anything but. I'll come back up for air in a few hours. I love you."

He was already walking away, coffee in hand. Dean watched him as he walked. Such a sight to see...  "I love you too," he called after him, receiving a chipper laugh in return. 

Then he retired himself to watching TV while nursing his third cup of coffee. Despite the caffeine, he was falling asleep.

When he was half asleep, something about the television changed. 

"Come on, Dean, eat something." His dad's voice reached his ears. "Talk. Something."

Five year old Dean shook his head. 

"Dean, it's been months. You can't keep doing this."

Then a tiny, undeveloped voice piped up from the highchair next to Dean. "Bean!" 

Both Dean and his father turned toward the noise. "What was that, Sammy?" John asked.

"Bean!" Sammy bashed his fist against the plastic tray. "Bean!"

"Bean..." Young-Dean whispered. It was his first word he'd spoken since his mother died. "Sammy said Bean! Bean means me, I think!"

"Bean!" 

Then the scene changed. 

He knew this one well. He was ten. Sam was six.

Their dad was gone for work again, leaving Dean alone with Sam for the Fourth of July, and Sam had begged for fireworks that year. So Dean stole some. 

They were standing in a field, side by side, and Sam was grinning up at Dean. 

"Ready to light 'em up?" Dean asked. At Sam's nod of approval, Dean flicked open the old silver lighter he'd stolen off of their dad's dresser. 

The first firework whistled into the sky and exploded. Red, green, yellow, white, blue... They went one after another, sparks falling down to land in the dry cornfield. 

Then something went wrong. The dry corn caught flame, and Dean let out a almost terrified laugh, grabbing Sam under his arms and running away from the field. Sam laughed the whole time. 

The next moment was when Dean graduated from high school. 

Then there was the first day of college, when he met Lisa and instantly fell in love.

Next was the day he moved in with Lisa, which was also the day he told her he loved her.

After that, it was the day she told him she was pregnant.

Then came  Cas . Almost every moment with  Castiel  showed up. Meeting him, kissing him, and the sweetest of all, saying 'I love you.' Dean could remember that first "I love you, Dean Winchester," like clockwork. 

After that things changed. It started to become sadder, lonelier. The way Dean had left the room after Lisa admitted to cheating on him. The week  Castiel  was gone. The moments in which he believed  Castiel  was dead. The melancholy first moments of bringing  Castiel  back to their home. 

His father's death.

His mother's death.

His brother's death. 

Then something that hadn't happened yet.

Castiel  encompassed by flames, screaming at Dean to run, blood rushing down his stomach. 

Then the explosion.

Dean woke up with a start, gasping for air. 

Michael stood in front of him, head tilted, smiling. 

"Sadist," Dean hissed as soon as he saw him. 

"Not quite. I was showing you what I could do, and what my brother will do. Either way, your loved one suffers, Dean. 

"It can only be stopped if you say yes. You don't want  Castiel  to share the same fate as his parents, do you?"

Shakily, Dean got to his feet, staring at Michael's eyes. They were full of mirthful content. "You're lying to me."

"Now, Dean. I don't lie." Michael shrugged, smiling further. "I will kill  Castiel  if it comes to it."

"You're lying to me. Leave me alone." Dean wanted to scream. Why didn't he? "For the last time," his voice dropped to a quivering whisper. "No."

*** 

He actually woke up this time. 

The first word out of his mouth was " Cas ." It was more of a scream.

"Dean?"  Castiel  called back. 

Dean heard the door at the end of the hallway open after a few seconds and scrambled up, spilling his coffee on the floor as he did. He slid into the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief as he took a slow step forward.

"Dean, what's-"  Castiel  stopped in the middle of his sentence, eyes wide. 

Then he dropped. 

Dropped isn't exactly the word for what  Castiel  did, though. He seemed to topple over, almost to the side, falling to the floor with a thud. Blue eyes stared at Dean's feet, one arm outstretched while the other dropped the paintbrush he had been holding behind his body.

It rolled down the step into the other room with a small clatter. 

Dean couldn't believe it. He stared at the body in shock, completely frozen for well over a minute. Then he fell over as well. He landed hard on his knees, then on his side. 

His eyes were level with  Castiel's . Green stared into that blank, lifeless blue. 

"No," Dean whispered, hand reaching out and closing around  Castiel's  cold one. " Cas -  Cas , come on. You're joking. You're messing around with me." Dean tugged on his hand, pulling the lead weight of  Castiel's  body closer to him. "Come on. Wake up and stop this. You said you'd come back. You said you'd do anything but leave-" Dean choked on his words, pressing his face into  Castiel's  hair and cradling him close. He held him against his front as he lay on the floor, tears falling now. "Come back to me, baby. Come on." 

For the next few minutes, the only words out of Dean's mouth were "Oh my God." 

"You called?" 

A familiar cocky voice remarked from behind Dean. Michael.

"What do you want?" Dean hissed, dropping  Castiel's  body and standing up quickly. He wanted to pound this stupid fucking angel to a pulp. "Bring him back."

"Say yes."

"Bring him fucking back.  Castiel  had nothing to do with this-"

"Yes, he actually does. However, I need you to say yes and I have to take drastic measures, now, Dean." Michael walked around him, toeing  Castiel's  body onto its back. "If you say yes I can bring him back and guarantee safety from both my brother and I."

That was all it took. 

"What do you say, Dean? A dead  Castiel , or a safe one?"

"Yes." Dean croaked, jaw set. "I will be your vessel, Michael. Just bring him back."

"Can I hear that one more time?"

"Yes. Get on with it already, you dick."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. It's a short chapter. I just wanted to get this part over with and delve into the deep shit. Let's all get ready for the adventures of Dean and Michael! (Don't worry, you'll get updates on your favorite painter in a few of the chapters as well. He's still vital to the story.)   
> 'Til next chapter, readers!


	8. Chapter 8: Say Goodbye

Bright light flooded Dean's vision, and as soon as it subsided, he felt very claustrophobic in his own body. 

His hands lifted in front of him without his mind sending them the message. Somehow Dean was still able to see through his own perspective. Not an out-of-body experience... Good. 

"You're in there, Dean?" His own voice asked the question, but he didn't tell it to. "Good. This would have been complicated if you weren't." 

"Hurry up, asshole. I only said yes so you would heal  Cas . Heal him already."

"Patience," Michael chirped, and it seemed weird to be hearing his own voice so happy when he was so angry. Michael stretched his legs, seemingly getting used to his own body. Dean tried to force his leg to move, force some muscle to twitch, anything, but nothing happened. 

Michael stood up and Dean could feel the wear of it on his joints. He leaned down again afterward, palm pressing to  Castiel's  chest, fingers spread out. As he whispered, his hand started to glow and his fingers curled in slightly. " Et ipse  curabit te ." 

Castiel's  eyelids fluttered and his eyes gained back their life, a breath shaking through his body. "Hello,  Castiel ," Michael whispered, and Dean's soul flinched. 

"No real names. It's  Cas ," Dean scolded Michael. 

"Hi. What am I doing on the floor? Why is my ear-"

Michael stopped his speech by pressing two fingers to the center of his forehead and a whisper of " Et  posui vos  ad  somnum ."  Castiel's  eyes fell closed and his breathing slowed to a familiar rhythm. Michael stayed crouching next to  Castiel's  sleeping form. "What would you like me to do with him?"

"Take him into the bedroom," Dean told Michael, unsure of what else he could do. "Put him in bed, cover him up." Michael nodded and scooped  Castiel  into his arms recklessly. Dean yelled at him for being so careless and Michael rolled his eyes, holding  Castiel  more carefully. He did as Dean instructed, but put  Castiel  on the wrong side of the bed.

After a second, Dean sighed. Michael had turned around and was walking out of the room. Dean wished he could see  Castiel  just one more time before he remembered something. "Can you replace memories?"

"Yes, I can," Michael answered, still walking. 

"Replace his. Make him forget dying and forget seeing me- you?- standing over him. Make him think something else happened, but let him know I'm still alive and will be back."

"Dean-"

"Just do it. Give him some kind of closure, please."

 Michael sighed again and turned around, stomping back into the bedroom and to the bed. He pressed the pads of his fingers to  Castiel's  temple, eyes closing as he whispered. " Hoc  fingere  et  memoria ." 

Memories flashed in Michael and Dean's shared mind.  Castiel's  memories, that is. Waking up and smiling almost immediately because there hadn't been any nightmares the previous night. Kissing Dean good morning, trailing after him into the kitchen. Their short conversation before  Castiel  disappeared into his room. Sketching out a painting, then hearing Dean's shout. 

Seeing Dean at the end of the hallway. Pain flashing through his body before everything went black. 

Fading into consciousness and seeing Dean above him, only it wasn't Dean. Dean didn't hold his shoulders like that. He didn't call him  Castiel  unless he was angry or joking or introducing him. Dean's rough, yet soft fingers touching his forehead before he slid into unconsciousness again. 

Then they were gone and replaced by something else. 

They were replaced with a smiling Dean, telling him he'd be back in a few days. "Don't worry about me," Dean whispered against his cheek. "I'll be fine. It's just a trip with Benny and Charlie." Dean pressed another kiss to his lips. "I'll be back before you miss me."

Everything was back to normal after that, light filling the room,  Castiel  asleep on the bed, arm curled around the pillow.

"Thank you." 

"This might be a weird experience for you," Michael told Dean as he closed his eyes again. 

Next time Michael opened them, they were standing in front of a light blue single story house. "I know you're going to be confused, Dean, but now that you have agreed to be my vessel, you are my responsibility." Michael sighed. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to send you up to Heaven soon, just before the battle gets into the real action. Some things you see before then will be disturbing at best, and some things that happen during the battle will be barely comprehensible. I promise you, though, as soon as I am done with your vessel and have won, you will be allowed back into your body and I will return you home."

"I've seen my fair share of disturbing," Dean promised, wishing he could just spend his time not seeing the things Michael was imagining. "I have one thing, however, that I don't like. I don't want to go to Heaven when you push me out of here. I want to go to  Cas . Just leave me in spirit form or something and kick me out to  Castiel , wherever the fuck he is at that moment. Deal?"

Michael's soul flared. "Dean, you're being unreasonable. If you are with  Castiel , what if I cannot find you both? What if you accidentally-"

"I'll check in with you at a certain time every day." Dean replied. "Tell you where we are, what the plans are for the next day. Just agree, Michael."

"Fine. You can go to  Castiel  when the battle begins."    
"Thank you."    
***   
It turned out that Michael needed to gather an angelic army before anything else, but that was the least disturbing part.    
Everywhere the dynamic duo of Dean and Michael went, demons followed. The first one terrified Dean when he saw it, but Michael took it down without pause. They had been walking up to another house, about to talk to another soul that was viable for a vessel, when it practically flew out at them. Dean couldn't see the terror of it like Michael could, though, and he'd found that out when Michael had brought the first angel down from Heaven. All Dean saw was a blond man with black eyes in a blood splattered shirt leap out in front of them and immediately try to take them down. The demon landed a few slices, but Michael's palm pressed to his forehead and Michael whispered.    
"I te occidere ."   
The demon's eyes flashed blue-white and it dropped, eyes burned.    
Dean didn't know what to think. He was going back and forth between "What if the guy's soul was in there like mine is?" and "Fuck yeah! You take them down, angelic dude!" and "Why am I not feeling any pain?"   
Michael let himself into the house, closing his eyes to sense the soul as he had done multiple times before. He walked to it slowly, eyes still closed.    
Every time he did that Dean thought that he would end up walking into a wall, but he never did.   
Michael eventually stood in front of the black man laying in bed,  then tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. " Uriel,  noasmi ol  mad  izizop ."    
A bright light entered the room after a few seconds, covering every inch of space. A high pitched ringing was all Dean heard, but Michael could obviously make sense of it as he replied in that gibberish language he called Enochian. " Ipizi , Uriel." 

At that, the light entered the sleeping man, making his eyes glow the same blue white of earlier. Dean wondered if the man's eyes would turn out burnt and bloodied like the demon outside, but when he saw the man's whole body start to glow, he knew that wouldn't happen. 

"Dean," Michael spoke, and Dean allowed himself to quip back. 

"What, your majesty?" 

"My team, as you would call it, is almost assembled. We have one more angel, and Uriel is about to go let her down from Heaven and into her vessel. Would you like to leave now?"

"Whatever you say,  Hoss ," Dean replied, trying to hide his happiness. he would get to see  Castiel  again. Finally. 

It had been way too long. 

"Farewell, Winchester. You'll be back in physical shape in no time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the brief chapter and the long wait! I had a longer chapter, but it didn't save and I lost three days of work and had to retype it, so it ended up shorter but with the same idea. The next chapter should be around the same length, just because it's introducing a little something.   
> Thank you for reading!! I really appreciate it! I know I'm no Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, but I try my hardest and it makes me ecstatic when I see that I've got hits, kudos, comments, or bookmarks! Thank you!!


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